


Stuck In The Middle With You

by AlleiraDayne



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Bodily Fluids, Come Eating, Come Sharing, Come Shot, Come Swallowing, Cuckolding, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, M/M, Oral Sex, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Sex, Sexual Content, Sexual Humiliation, Smut, Threesome - F/M/M, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-09-07 16:24:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20312491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlleiraDayne/pseuds/AlleiraDayne
Summary: While out investigating a string of murders committed by a tulpa, you and your wife end up in the middle of a fantasy with Dean and Castiel.





	Stuck In The Middle With You

**Author's Note:**

> This piece was commissioned for my first lot in the 2019 Fic-Facer$ auction. The prompt involved Destiel/Reader's Wife cuckolding with the reader watching.

“What do you mean, it’s not a tulpa? Of course, it is! Look!”

Dean tossed the folder of articles across the library table with a flippant flick of his wrist. Bev grabbed it first as you both reached for it, her hand a little faster. As she scanned the clippings, her narrow brow knotted and the corners of her lips pursed.

“It could be an actual serial killer,” she stated as she returned the folder to the table. “And in that case, the police should handle it.”

Dean groaned as his head thumped on the open book before him. “It’s not!” he insisted as one hand ran through his hair and grasped it. When he raised his head, his fierce green glare locked on Bev’s. “Look at the pattern. It takes weeks for a new story to develop. And the details shift every time. There’s a new aspect to it every month. We need to go there and start interviewing people. Now.”

Sam shut his book and set it aside, drawing your attention. “He’s right. This has all the classic markers of a tulpa. We’ve seen it before. Small, tightly-knit communities that gossip fuel a tulpa’s life-force. Granted the internet helped that one more than anything…”

Bev looked to the articles before glancing at you. She grimaced as she turned back to the table with a shake of her head. You heard the gears churning between her ears, her indecision palpable. You’d been hunting with the Winchesters and their angel friend, Castiel, for a mere six months. Though the two of you had learned so much, the road ahead stretched on forever, beyond the horizon and out of sight.

“Alright,” Bev started. “But the second we find out it’s just a creepy serial killer that reads the papers and has a huge kink for bondage, we’re leaving.”

Dean shrugged as he stood and grabbed his jacket. “Don’t knock it.”

Bev followed with a laugh. “I’m not. It’s the lack of consent and murder that I’m not okay with. Rope is a hell of a lot of fun.”

Dean froze as Bev passed him on her way to the main hallway. “I… it was…”

Over her shoulder, she gave him a wink. “You started this conversation.”

You stood with Sam and walked beside him as Dean caught up with Bev heading down the hallway to your rooms. Castiel brought up the rear and added, “A lack of consent can be part of the… fun? Right?”

“You know, Cas,” Dean said over Sam’s cackling laughter, “sometimes, there are things you just don’t talk about in groups. Things like that. That’s a private conversation.”

“Private… between me and you? Or between me and Bev?” Castiel asked as he regarded her with an inquisitive look.

Sam’s roaring laughter followed him as he disappeared around the corner to his room. Dean looked between the three of you before he said, “Both. Now c’mon. We’ve got an eight hour drive ahead of us. I wanna catch this son of a bitch before he kills any more of those poor girls.”

~*~

“Wait a minute,” Sam started, “all the locals said the same thing?”

Bev nodded as she leaned back in her chair at the small motel table. The five of you had packed into the guy’s tiny motel room to discuss your findings on the first day of the investigation. While Sam and Dean had gotten access to a fresh crime scene, you, Bev, and Castiel had interviewed locals.

“Except that the stories all change,” Sam continued.

“Exactly,” Bev stated. “That’s the one detail that’s consistent. Change.”

Castiel grimaced as he turned to Sam. “I don't understand it either. The first article about a potential serial killer escaping the nearby prison was published eight months ago. How have all the locals gotten so… derailed?”

They sat in silence as you all pondered his question. But then Sam startled as he leaped from the end of the bed for the articles. “Eight months ago, right?”

“Yeah,” Bev said. “Then seven months ago was the first death.”

“With details identical to the murders of the escaped serial killer,” Sam continued as he tore into his laptop bag and withdrew the file of articles again.

Dean rose from his bed in kind, a slow straightening of his legs. “But the article that was written had a new detail in it,” he started. “We looked at the autopsy report for the first victim. She didn't have ligature marks on her ankles. Just her…” he paused with a swallow and a subtle glance at Bev. “Her wrists. Rope burns.”

The color in her cheeks deepened until she spoke. “Why would the paper publish something that wasn't true?”

“People lie all the time,” Castiel started. “I learned that a long time ago.”

Bev glared at Dean for a beat without a trace of her earlier embarrassment. “But this is a journalist writing about murder. Why would they fabricate that detail?”

Sam slammed down a copy of the autopsy report for the second victim. “To ensure everyone would talk about it.”

Bev flicked through the second autopsy report, her eyes scanning the pages. “Right, so now there are ligature marks on her wrists and ankles.”

Sam handed her the third article. “And apparently her chest.”

Bev took the article as well and immediately set it down. “I remember. Isn't it more likely the coroner lied and the journalist figured it out?”

Sam shook his head as Dean said, “Nope. That was our first hunch, too. Coroner seemed like a level headed dude. He even picked up a blended iron and silver coin I dropped. So then we decided to go talk to the journalist, but we couldn't find him. No sign of him ever existing.”

“What?” Bev asked, her tone flat.

“Yeah, I said the same thing.” His slow gate bore him to the table’s edge. “I half-expected some old lonely dude, shacked up in his mom's basement embellishing murder stories with more and more rope,” he explained as his words faded and he haphazardly reorganized the articles with delicate fingertips. He swallowed a thick gulp, then continued his thought.

“Seriously, the last victim was covered in knots all over. Must have been fifty feet of bright blue rope all angled and tied and anchored…” he said as he gestured across his chest and stomach. When Bev caught his careful glance, Dean shook his head and said, “It was a lot of rope.”

Silence stifled the room so thoroughly, you heard Dean’s constricted breath as he stared at the articles strewn across the table. Sweat dripped down his forehead, rolled to his neck, and soaked into the collar of his shirt, but he seemed not to care. Past him, Sam sat on the end of the bed and unabashedly gaped, and beside Sam, Castiel sat on the other bed, his confused grimace staring at his feet.

Bev, however, remained unphased. She watched Dean until he met her gaze head-on. “The last article did mention blue rope,” she agreed. A smile you knew all too well spread across her lips and blood rushed from your head to your groin.

Castiel stood in a rush as though bitten on the ass. “I want to know one thing.”

“One thing?” Sam asked under his breath.

“Why rope? Why not duct tape? Or handcuffs?” Castiel continued.

The room had grown too hot in a single beat, sweat of your own rolling down the back of your neck. Castiel met your gaze, unblinking, then turned to Sam when you remained silent too long. “If the tulpa wanted to restrain his victims, why only use rope?”

Dean scratched the back of his head as he avoided everyone's wide stares, and his shoulders hunched as he slumped into an empty chair at the table. Too many silent seconds passed before anyone spoke, allowing you too much time to think, to wonder.

And did you ever wonder. Knots of blue rope crisscrossed Bev’s back and bound her arms and wrists. Castiel towered over her as Dean embraced her. Before you reined in your thoughts, the sounds of her pleasure in your mind sounded so real, your erection strained against your pants.

“I'm… gonna go for a walk,” Sam stated as he headed for the door.

Dean scrambled over the back of the chair as he climbed from it. “What?! It's ten o'clock! How long will you be gone?”

He wrenched the door aside.. “Forever.”

Dean gaped. “When are you coming back?”

“Whenever this conversation is not happening or I’m too drunk to care,” Sam concluded as he strode over the threshold and disappeared into the night.

Dean turned back to Castiel with a flat glare. “Nice job.”

Castiel considered the door, then you, then Bev, and then his narrowed stare returned to Dean. “I don't understand. I asked a question about the case. Why won't anybody answer my question?”

Dean cleared his throat as he leaned forward, elbows propped up on his knees. “Cas, it's not a simple answer—”

“Yes, it is,” Castiel interrupted as he fingered the articles. “Why use rope over anything more secure?”

“Because,” Dean started as he shot a quick glance at Bev. “It’s… it’s a…”

“Is this one of those conversations we’re supposed to have in private?” Castiel asked.

Dean sighed as he slumped back into his chair again. He palmed his forehead, forefinger, and thumb rubbing his temples as he groaned. “Yes, Cas, it is. Can we talk about this later? When we’re alone?”

“Don’t mind us,” Bev chimed with a coy smirk for Dean. “In fact, I could help explain it to him.”

“No, please, he doesn’t—” Dean’s thought clipped short when he regarded Bev once more and found her devious grin. Reclined in her chair, she exuded boundless confidence, one leg crossed over the other and arms draped over the armrests. “Is there something going on here that I’m missing?”

“I’m a little surprised it took you this long to figure it out,” you said. “She’s been coming at you with every play in the book for weeks.”

Dean frowned and shook his head as though clearing his muddled thoughts. “Really?” He turned back to Bev and considered her so thoroughly, you wondered what raced through his mind as he subconsciously smoothed his lap with one hand running down his inner thigh. “Well, shit, honey. Why didn’t you just… say something?”

That was all the confirmation Bev needed. She pushed from her chair and steadily rose to her feet, then crossed the room, not for Dean, but for Castiel. “Because it’s a little more complicated than that,” she said as she encroached upon Castiel’s personal space. Not that Castiel noticed. He seemed to lack any understanding of the concept, always standing mere inches from Dean or Sam. So, when Bev’s chest pressed to his, he simply met her gaze head-on. She plucked his tie from his chest and the blue fabric flipped between her fingers. When she licked her lips, Castiel mimicked her, whether on purpose or subconsciously, you were not sure.

After a deep breath expanded her chest, Bev added, “There are quite a few people involved and everyone should be aware of that.” Her wicked gaze met yours with a gleam so wild, you could hardly contain your excitement.

Dean’s stare snapped to yours only to soften the moment it landed. Wide, green eyes consumed you from head to toe as he had done to Bev a moment earlier, though, with you, he lingered at your groin. “I’m… beginning to understand,” Dean said as another unmistakable shift in his hips sucked the air right from your lungs.

Despite your best efforts, you couldn’t resist the urge, the absolute need to ease the ache of your erection so tightly constricted in your pants. A smooth adjustment allowed you a little freedom to stroke the bulge over your jeans, and Dean licked his lips as he watched.

“He’ll be staying over there,” Bev stated. “Nobody touches him.”

“What am I doing?” Castiel asked.

“Me,” she said as she stripped his tie from his neck. “And maybe him,” she added as she looked to Dean. “Depends on how things go and what I decide I want.”

Dean crossed the space between them with two long strides. He towered over them both as he enveloped Bev from behind. His lips found purchase at the crook of her neck, and his hands reached for the fastenings of her pants, only to hesitate after a moment of that furtive connection. He regarded you with a sidelong look full of concern, as though he had crossed a line.

“Ignore him,” Bev demanded. “Pretend he’s not even here.”

“Are you sure?” Dean asked.

She considered him, her gaze narrowed. “I am,” she started as she slipped Castiel’s coat and suit jacket from his shoulders. “But I would enjoy it most if you taunted him.”

Sweat trickled down your neck and soaked into your collar, the sudden onslaught of arousal heating your entire body. Best you discard your shirt then before you ruined it with more than your sweat. Three buttons popped apart with a flick of your fingers. One smooth pull tore it overhead and you tossed it aside as Dean continued to stare at you, another thirsty look drinking in your entire body.

“Be possessive. Let him know you’re about to fuck his wife,” Bev teased as she unbuttoned Castiel’s shirt.

God, but that woman knew exactly what you needed. She left little to the imagination and demanded exactly what she wanted. Lucky for you, it all added up to the hardest erection you’d had in years.

“Let him know, when you’re pounding my pussy, that I’ll come harder than I ever have,” she added. “That with your angel buried in my ass, my husband will never be able to fuck me as good as you two do.”

Dean growled as he tore off his shirt and kicked off his boots. “I can be possessive,” he stated under his breath as his lips returned to her skin. His hands slipped under her shirt and roved her entire body, grasping and pinching and pulling at fabric until he stripped her of her shirt. “I can sure as hell take another man’s partner right out of his hands.”

Lucky didn’t even come close. You had died, and this was heaven. Of course, it was. An angel and his lover were about to fuck your wife right in front of you. The ultimate fantasy; you had never thought it would come true. But there they were, the two of them with their half naked, writhing bodies as Bev squirmed between them and pressed her lips to Castiel’s. At last, he seemed to understand, his hands slipping into her loosened jeans and shoving them to her ankles. The sight of them succumbing to their base desires ignited a wildfire of lust in your veins that coursed through your entire body. Stripped of your jeans, you withdrew yourself from your underwear and stroked the length of your cock already slick with precum.

“See,” Bev cooed against Castiel’s lips. “He loves it. He loves the idea of two big strong men taking his wife from him.”

“Like watching pornography,” he stated.

“Cas, will you—stop making this weirder than it already is and take off your damn pants?” Dean growled.

He opened his mouth, but Bev cut him off before he could say anything. “Do not apologize to him,” she started as she unbuttoned his pants. “You answer to me and only me. Same goes for you, Dean. What I say, goes. Got it?”

Dean grinned into her flesh as he nipped at her neck. “Of course, sweetheart. Wouldn’t want it any other way. You give me an order and I’ll follow it.”

“Good,” she drawled as she slithered out from between them. “Get on your knees.”

Dean did as instructed but not without sneaking a quick glance your way. That dark glare sank to the pit of your stomach and rushed a wave of arousal straight to your aching sac. Too pretty by half, Dean did things for the both of you that had brought you to that very moment. He had been a surprising source of arousal for you over the last few weeks. That had been Bev’s doing. She’d gotten the idea first, and when she wanted something, you never imagined standing in her way. She deserved nothing but the best. And so, you remained seated, subtle rolls of your hips thrusting your cock into your hand as Dean helplessly stared.

“Castiel, I must admit, I am impressed.” Bev’s words grasped your attention. She had stripped him of every stitch of fabric while Dean had you so distracted. Castiel stood before Dean with his massive erection standing straight out from his groin, inches from Dean’s face. As Bev stared, she took Castiel in hand and stroked him from base to tip, and he shuddered as his eyes rolled back into his head and closed.

“Open your mouth, Dean.”

Dean did as ordered and his plush lips parted. Bev angled Castiel’s cock to his mouth, and Dean welcomed him, guiding with his tongue. Castiel stepped into him as he sucked his entire length down his throat and grasped him with both hands at the back of his head.

“It seems I picked the right one to do my dirty work,” Bev said as she stroked Castiel’s cock in time with Dean’s bobbing head.

Dean reared back and withdrew Castiel from his mouth as he said, “You should see him suck my dick, honey.”

“Dean, stop talking,” Castiel growled. “I want you—”

“That’s enough out of both of you,” Bev interjected as she knelt on the bed. “I want you to make him come.” She added as she pointed to you.

“But I thought—”

A stern glare silenced Dean as Bev raised a brow at him. “You won’t be touching him. You’re going to fuck me. Castiel, too. But you’ll need to convince him you’re doing a good job.”

Dean rose to his feet and stripped himself of his pants and boxers. He knelt beside Bev and grabbed her by the wrist to haul her to him, their bodies flush. “Is this what you want?” he asked as he grabbed her other wrist.

“Maybe? Do you think you got it in you, Dean? Are you man enough to fuck another man’s wife?”

Castiel knelt behind her and grabbed her by the ass. “Angels don’t practice monogamy,” he whispered as he jerked her back, his slick cock gliding between her cheeks. “Dean and I are more than capable of overpowering you.”

“Cas,” Dean started, “she… it was a metaphor. She’s just trying to rile us up.”

“Trying?” Bev cooed.

“Succeeding, honey,” Dean chimed with a grin as he thrust his cock between her thighs. “And if I’m not mistaken, we’re doing plenty for you, too. God, you’re so wet, I could fuck your thighs.”

“I have so many more questions,” Castiel groaned as his fingertips bit into the meat of her ass. “Like—”

“Can you ask them later and just fuck me?” Bev interrupted.

Castiel’s bright blue stare snapped to Dean’s. “Am I… is this okay with you?”

The softest smile you had ever seen creased Dean’s lips as he cupped Castiel’s cheek. “It’s just fine. Now, listen to the pretty lady and do to her what you do to me.”

With all three bodies pressed tightly into each other, you could hardly tell where one ended and another began. Dean’s rigid arm hooked under Bev’s thigh and lifted as she angled his cock to her dripping pussy. Spread wide, he slipped inside her, completely sheathed and Bev moaned so loud, your entire body seized in a shock of arousal that flexed your cock in your hand. “Dean,” she breathed, “Fuck, honey, that feels amazing.”

“Yeah?” he grunted through a thrust. “You like that? You like my big fat cock inside you while your husband watches? Watches me spread you, make you wet, make you scream for me?”

“Goddammit, yes, it’s perfect,” she sighed, her breath marked by his increasing thrusts. “It’s so—_ holy fuck _.”

Castiel had waited a mere minute before joining Dean. He grasped Bev by the ass and spread her cheeks, then pressed his cock to her hole until she relaxed. “She… feels different.”

“She’s a woman,” Dean grunted as his hips slapped against hers. “You’ve slept with women before.”

“I have never sodomized a woman,” he grunted as he withdrew. “She is a lot tighter than—”

“Okay, Cas, we get it,” Dean growled. “Just enjoy it. And you know… do that thing. With your grace.”

“Grace?” Bev breathed with a shocked gasp. “What do you—”

Her words clipped short by a shrill cry, and her head tilted back to land on Castiel’s shoulder, his blue eyes glowing near white with a flash. Dean thrust in time, his own grunts and growls mingling with her cries for a song so deviant, you wanted nothing more than to come right then and there. But they had only just started. Despite the need for release, you withdrew from yourself and eased off that precarious edge. Denial would only ensure a bigger load later. Combined with the display on the bed before you—two incredibly hot men’s huge cocks spreading your wife’s holes—you knew Bev would swallow three times before you finished coming in her mouth. If only she would let you.

They moved as one, Bev relying on their strength as Dean and Castiel held her aloft, and the two of them thrust in perfect rhythm. As Dean withdrew, Castiel pumped into her ass until completely sheathed. And when Castiel pulled back, Dean snapped his hips hard, pounding into Bev until she begged him to slow down. But Dean knew the rules. She had told him to fuck her until you came. And you had no intention of doing that before the three of them. Not even the ache in your balls could take that away from her.

“Cas,” Dean grunted, “she's close, I can feel it.”

Castiel said nothing as one of his hands slipped over her hip and dove between her thighs. The other teased a taut nipple between his index finger and thumb, and the scream that rent from Bev’s lips nearly ruined all your hard work. Nothing short of divine, her orgasm burst like a shower of sparks, full of curses, blasphemes, and praises alike. But just as she relaxed, as the last waves of her release ebbed, that flash of brilliant white light flared in Castiel’s eyes once more, and the world ceased to exist.

Bev froze, her entire body seized in their embrace. Her jaw gaped, though no sound escaped her. White knuckles clung to Dean's massive shoulders as though her life depended on him. The best part, the most amazing part about watching another man—especially those two men—fuck your wife was the beautiful mess they had made of her; tousled hair with locks stuck to her forehead with sweat, reddened skin plucked and pinched by greedy fingers, and the wet slick that ran down her thighs in an opaque tide as she came.

“Holy shit,” Dean grunted, “That’s… Cas, stop.”

“No,” Castiel stated, eyes still illuminated as he smiled. “You like it.”

“I know that, but it’s… I can feel it, too.” A hiss of breath sucked between his gritted teeth as Dean enveloped Bev in his arms. “It’s only been a few minutes. _ Fuck _, I can’t hold on much longer, sweetheart.”

“Then come,” Castiel ordered. “I'll heal you.”

Bev’s long moan burst from her mouth at long last, her entire body convulsing in one hard flex. Dean held her close as she unraveled, her cum coating his cock. Indeterminate seconds passed as you pumped into your hand harder, barely resisting the urge to come with her.

When her orgasm subsided, she unfurled from Dean’s arms and asked, “What did he do to me?”

“That,” Dean started, “was an angelic orgasm. He pumped his Grace into you as you came.” His lips teased at hers as he smoothed the sweat that ran in tiny rivulets down her chest, then grasped her by her throat. “Felt good?”

Deep gasps for air heaved her breasts pressed against the hard expanse of Dean’s chest. “Good? Good doesn’t even come close… and yet, I’m ready for another.”

“I healed you of overstimulation and exhaustion,” Castiel said as he thrust into her again. “You deserve more. I really enjoy the way you feel.”

“Is he always so sweet?” she asked Dean.

“We’re working on the dirty talk,” Dean grunted as he returned to his thrusting, pumping hard and fast into her. “I’m gonna come, honey. I’m gonna fill that pretty little cunt of yours with my seed and then Cas is gonna pound your ass until you can’t see straight.”

“Oh, fuck, yes,” Bev moaned. “God, I can feel you throbbing so hard, I’m gonna come again.”

“Yes,” Castiel groaned, the first remotely perverted sound to emanate from his beautiful lips. “It’s… tight. So tight, Bev. I’m going to ejac—”

“Come, Cas, come, you’re going to come, don’t be so damn clinical,” Dean growled as he gripped her throat tighter and thrust harder. “He’s doing his best, honey, I promise.”

“I don’t care what he says,” Bev gasped, “as long as he keeps fucking me with that huge cock of his, he could speak in tongues for all I care.”

“Do you want me—”

“Cas,” Dean grunted, “just hold her up and keep fucking her. Give me some of your Grace, too, I’m ready.”

“Are you sure?” Castiel asked.

Dean nodded as he locked eyes with Bev. “Positive. Honey, you better hold on. When I come with his Grace, it makes a huge me—”

Everything happened at once. Castiel’s eyes brightened with a surge of his power, and Dean’s words transcended into a howl that raced down your spine and landed squarely between your aching thighs. The sight of them in the throes of their orgasms unraveled your own so violently, you burst apart at the seams. As all three bodies shuddered, the strokes of your cock slowed, and sound and sight thinned to a single point. There, your orgasm tore through your body and a heavy twitch of your cock sprayed long white ropes of cum to your chest.

The cries of pleasure from the bed overpowered your pathetic whimpers and snagged your attention. Dean hunched over Bev’s shoulder as her head dropped back to Castiel’s chest, and even Castiel seemed susceptible to his own flow of erotic power. The otherworldly moan that rent his lips drowned out the others as his head tipped back. But his hips remained steady, thrusting his cock into Bev’s ass as she moaned her steady cadence. And Dean? He all but collapsed as his entire body shook, every thick muscle rigid as he came inside her.

What lasted mere seconds seemed to stretch on forever, compounded pleasure finally finding its release like a valve thrown wide open on a pipe about to burst. Dean slumped back on his haunches first, the bed rocking with his weight. Bev collapsed into him, their bodies sticking together as Dean’s softening erection withdrew from her. Thick globs of his cum oozed from her sex, and in her haste to keep it from the bed, she coated her fingers in it and spread it as best as she could.

When Castiel withdrew from her, he added to the mess, his own cum dribbling from her ass. Bev pitched forward atop Dean, but looked to you for the final act, the nail in the coffin of your degradation.

“Clean me up,” she ordered.

The room spun as you stood, unable to focus on a single spot; between Dean and Castiel’s spent bodies, Bev bent over with her back arched, ass high in the air, and her tongue teasing at Dean’s balls, the rush of blood from your head rendered you senseless. You reached out with a tentative hand only to hesitate as you neared her. “May I touch you?”

“Yes,” she moaned as she continued to spread their cum on her lips. “Get my fingers while you’re at it.”

You did as ordered, kneeling before the edge of the bed and grasping her hips. Bev held her fingers out for you, and you sucked each one clean. A distinct mixture of bitter and salt filled your mouth, overpowering your senses as you swallowed. When she withdrew her last finger, she shoved her hips into you and smeared the mess of arousal and ejaculate across your face. Marked, Dean and Castiel’s scents buried hers, but you knew her too well to miss it entirely. The smell of them on her, inside her, as you sucked her lips into your mouth renewed that ache in your groin, and it wasn’t long before Bev demanded more.

“Fuck, honey, that feels good. I’m gonna come all over your face.”

You moaned into her sex, whimpers muted by her flesh, and the pain of fresh arousal sucked the air from your lungs. Between gasps you worked her cunt as best you could, tongue lapping up the runnels of cum and lips sucking her clean. But when she demanded more again—and added her finger to her asshole—you followed suit. Two large fingers slid inside her cunt with little effort as you turned your back to the bed and ducked under her hips. There, you sealed your lips around her clit and sucked as hard and licked as fast as you could. From the corner of your eye, you found her mouth full of Dean’s cock and her free hand stroking Castiel’s, both men hard again after Castiel’s healing.

And there you sat on the floor, head between her thighs and a limp dick, servicing her with cum from two other men oozing out of her and running down your chin. Lascivious wet suckles filled the room, bolstered by Castiel's deep groans. He came first, not unlike you, lancing white ropes of cum along his chest and stomach. In a final display of her deviant mind, she released him, smeared her fingers through his fluids, and then shoved them into his mouth. And bless Castiel's pretty lips as they willingly sealed around her digits, sucking them so clean, you imagined he might be used to sucking on thicker things.

The sounds of Dean's impending release snapped your attention to him, what little you could see. He had grasped Bev’s hair at the back of her head, but when he tried to pull from her, she maintained her hold of him in her mouth, head bobbing from tip to base. He begged her to stop, to slow down and let him go, but you knew Bev took no orders from her playthings. So, Dean writhed under her, struggled as his orgasm swelled and surged until it exploded in a load of cum in her mouth. She moaned as she swallowed, sucking all of him down but for a tiny glob that ran the length of his cock and dribbled over his balls.

And then there was Bev. She said she had been close but given her numerous distractions, you couldn't blame her. So, you renewed your pursuit for her end, and you knew it wouldn't be long. Between your mouth, Dean's encouragingly perverted talk, and Castiel's roaming hands, she succumbed to your stimulation in mere moments, her entire body quivering, practically buzzing with pleasure. Her cries pitched higher and higher until her final moan cut short, and the hard flexes of her cunt poured cum and a fresh gush of her thin opaque arousal over your chin and down your neck. The warmth of her fluids pebbled your flesh, goosebumps racing along your arms and down your back as you sucked her clean. Shudders of aftershocks quivered her lips pulled into your mouth until she wrenched away with a final moan and collapsed atop Dean.

You made a mental note to do everyone’s laundry after you grabbed a shirt and wiped your face clean. The others didn’t bother; Castiel had curled in beside Dean, one hand draped over Bev’s hip. With barely any room left, you clamored over them to lay behind her and curled into her, flush with her back. All manner of sighs and groans filled the silent space between you, and you were nearly asleep before anyone spoke.

“I could use a shower,” Dean grunted.

Bev hummed her agreement, then asked, “how many people fit in the tub?”

“Four.”

When you looked to him, Dean stared at the ceiling as if he had not just stated, for a fact, that four people fit in the bathtub. But it was Bev who asked, “How?”

Dean grinned as he grabbed her hip, and pulled her tight against his chest for a kiss that lasted an eternity. As you stared, a little hope wended its way into your subconscious. Maybe next time, Bev would allow him to play with you. To feel those lips _ anywhere _ on your body…

The thought vanished in a hazy memory as Dean parted from Bev and snatched up an advertisement paper from the nightstand to hand to her. Bev took it and turned it over to reveal that the room in which Sam, Dean, and Castiel stayed was the honeymoon suite, featuring a very large bathtub.

“I couldn’t tell you which one of us is the one that tips off the front desk clerks, but we usually score the suite in motels.”


End file.
